Courting Alley Cat (3 page)

              Four hours and a long shower later, Alley stood at the kitchen window drinking her second glass of water. Geez, it was hot outside. She had finished mowing the lawn and was wondering who she could pay to do it for her next time.

              After staring at the neighbor’s house for ten minutes, she mentally kicked herself. What was wrong with her? Maybe she was having some kind of hormonal surge. She was probably just lonely. Justin York was the only human she had seen in two days. It just wasn’t natural. She really needed to get out more.

              Now that she knew what her problem was, she could pull herself away from this window and get back to her life and stop being an adolescent with a crush on the next door neighbor.

              She had just settled down to work on her manuscript and had managed to get ink all over her hands. She hadn’t thought about Justin in all of probably five minutes when someone knocked on the back door.

              She pushed the hair out of her face and went to see who could possibly be disturbing her. It was him!

              Justin stood at the back door. “Hi,” he said, with a grin.

              Frowning, she opened the door. “Hi.”

              “What does the other guy look like?” he asked.

              “What? What other guy?”

              He reached out and gently ran his fingertip along her cheekbone. Alley felt her eyes closing. He held his fingers in front of her. Seconds passed. She opened her eyes. His fingertips were covered in ink.

              “Oh, no,” she said, turning away, feeling the heat spread along her cheeks. Had he seen her hormonal response? She didn’t care about the ink so much - it was her response to his touch.

              “Hey,” he said, steering her back with his non-inked hand. “It’s ok. You’re kind of cute with stripes. But you have piqued my curiosity. What are you doing?”

              “Working,” she said. At least she had been. Finally. It hadn’t lasted long. Her concentration was scattered now.

              “Working on what?” He walked the remaining few feet into the kitchen, pulled a paper towel from the roller, and began wiping his hands.

              “My graphic novel,” she said, following him.

              “What’s a graphic novel?”

              “You don’t know? It’s all the rage with adolescent boys.”

              “As you can probably guess, it’s been awhile since I was an adolescent boy,” he said, opening the door beneath the sink to toss the paper towel.

              She smiled at the thought of just how manly he was and how far from the awkwardness of adolescence. “You’ve spent some time here,” she observed.

              “Oh,” he said, looking a little sheepish. “Granny and I go way back. She hooked me when I was a mere pup with those home-made chocolate chip cookies of hers.”

              She narrowed her eyes. Granny had never mentioned him. At least not that she remembered. How much exactly had Granny told him about her? “Really?” she asked.

              “Speaking of which, where is Charlie?”

              “Sleeping, I guess.”

              “He always comes out to say hi. Mind if we go look for him?” He stepped into her space. So close, if one of them leaned in, their bodies would touch. There was an intensity in his eyes that she hadn’t expected to see in him. “And then I have something to ask you about.” He reached out, put his hand on her arm, sliding it down to grasp her hand.

              “No,” she said and had to clear her throat. “We can look for him.”

              He didn’t say anything, just gazed into her eyes and ran his thumb along her palm.

              “I think...” she was about to mention that Charlie was probably in Granny’s bedroom in his bed, when her cell phone rang. Pulling her hand from his, she pulled her iphone from her pocket.

              It was Steven calling her back. She opened the phone.

              “Hey, Girlfriend. I have great news!”

              She glanced at Justin and tried to switch focus. Steven had been the last thing on her mind. “What is it?” she responded automatically.

              “Zena, and I are on our way over there. Can you believe it?”

              “What?” Actually, no, she couldn’t believe it. “When?” she asked, hoping it wasn’t right now.

              “Right now. We’ll be there for dinner.”

              “Oh.”

              “I bet you can’t wait to see us.”

              She looked over at Justin. He was at her desk, staring at her drawings. “Of course. It’ll be great to see you.” She didn’t hear Steven’s response, however, because she was distracted by the nice fit of Justin’s Levis as he bent over her desk. She turned and closed her eyes and focused back on the voice in her ear. “I’m sorry, what’s that?”

              “I just said I knew you would be excited. See you soon.”

              “Ok, see you soon.” She signed off and set her phone aside. Then, she slowly turned back to Justin who was staring at her, waiting.

              “Visitor?” He asked.

              “What?” Why was he looking at her like that? Like he knew something she didn’t. And whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

              “I suppose you’ll be busy, then.”

              “Busy?”

              “Yes, you’ll be busy entertaining.”

              “I guess. It’s just Steven.”

              “I see.” He ran his hand across the shadowy stubble on his chin. “I guess I’ll be going then.”

              “Well, what about Charlie?”

              “No prob. I’ll see him next time.”

              “Well, really, it’s ok. It’ll be awhile before –

              “Don’t worry about it.” He walked past her and started for the back door.

              “What were you going to...” She said, then trailed off as the door slammed behind him. “ask me?” she finished, feeling empty and not really knowing why. She should be excited. Her friends were coming.

              Justin took another deep, steadying breath and stepped into his kitchen.

              “Been to see Granny?” Bert asked.

              “Granny’s still on vacation, Dad.”

              “That’s right,” Bert said, with a mischievous smile. “How’s Alley?”

              “I’m sure, she’s fine,” he said, and opened the refrigerator to rummage for a beer. With a groan, he remembered that his parents didn’t keep alcohol in the house due to Dad’s heart problems. In the two years he had lived with them, this was the first time he had wanted something stronger than a soda. He took a soda can from the shelf, popped the top, and took a long swallow.

              “She must be lonely over there in that big house,” Bert said.

              “Alley has never been lonely in her life.”

              “There you are,” his mother said, coming into the kitchen. “Are you planning to be in the office this afternoon? Your dad and I would like to go to the festival.”

              “I’m always in the office,” he muttered. But he wouldn’t have been if he had his way. He had been planning to ask Alley to go to the town festival with him. But she was busy. As always.

              Well, he wasn’t going to go through that again. She hadn’t had time for him when she was a kid, and she obviously didn’t have time for him now.

              “You just gave me a great idea, Doris,” Bert said, “We were just talking about Alley.” He turned back to Justin. “Why don’t you take Alley to the festival?”

              “No, Dad. Alley doesn’t have time to go to the festival.”

              “Why not? She’s a city girl and all, but it would be fun for her to get out. She’s got to be lonely.”

              “Dad, Alley doesn’t get lonely. Forget it,” he said, and stormed from the room.

              “What’s up with him?” Doris asked. “Justin doesn’t get angry.”

              “I’d say our mild mannered son has found someone that gets his blood boiling.”

              “Well, it’s about time.”

              Justin ignored his parents. He had work to do. Alley Alexander had never been his type and she never would be. He wanted someone who was settled. Someone who was caring and giving. Someone who would have time for him and not have to be surrounded by other people all the time.

              No, Alley Alexander was nothing but trouble and he would do well to stay away from her.

              Alley dropped into her desk chair and sat chewing her fingernail, staring at the half drawn main character on the page in front of her. A character with great fashion sense, blonde highlights, and a gaggle of boys at her beck and call. What would Allora, the infallible character Alley herself had created, do in this situation? That was a question easily answered. Allora would never be in this situation. Boys flocked to her and practically ate out of her hand. She was Scarlett O’Hara at the BBQ with no intractable Ashley Wilkes.  Hmmm. Was Justin an Ashley?

              Had she said something wrong to Justin or did he always run hot and cold? He’d been friendly with her, almost flirting, then by the time she had gotten off the phone, he had become disagreeable. It was perplexing, but even more perplexing was the fact that he had left her feeling a little bereft and a lot disappointed.

              She’d been disappointed before. She didn’t care to feel that way again.

              With one last glance at Allora, Alley groaned and stood up. She would get no work done today. Besides Justin getting her emotions into an uproar, her friends would soon be there, distracting her - and she was just getting used to being here - working alone.

              She ran the vacuum cleaner, straightened up the house, and ran to the local grocery store for orange juice, milk, sodas, and some breakfast food items since she was sure they would be going out tonight. Lugging the bags of groceries through the back door, she couldn’t help but think that sometimes friends were a lot of trouble.

              She put away the groceries, and glanced at the still full cat food bowl. Where was Charlie anyway? She walked through the house, calling for him, suddenly consumed with worry. She wasn’t used to thinking about pets, so she hadn’t thought anything until now about not having seen the cat since sometime that morning.

              She found Charlie under Granny’s bed, the floor stained with vomit.

              “Charlie, what’s wrong?” she crooned to the cat as she pulled him from his hiding place. Carrying the lethargic cat with her, she checked his litter box. There was a smear of blood. More blood than urine. “Oh, Charlie, what is it?”

              Using her cell phone, she quickly called Steven as she headed out the back door. Some cat sitter she was. She hadn’t even noticed that the cat hadn’t been out to eat that day. Granny would never forgive her if Charlie died. She would never forgive herself.

              Racing up the front steps of the Bark and Purr, she wondered whether she was supposed to knock or just go in. Siding with caution, she knocked, though it took a lot of willpower. She shifted from foot to foot, holding the cat close, crooning to him.

              Justin answered the door. She pushed in. “I need to see Dr. York,” she said. “Where is he?”

              “He’s not here,” Justin answered, looking at her curiously.

              “Oh nooo.” She felt tears well in her eyes and one slipped over the edge and made its way down her cheek to land on Charlie’s fur.

              “Here,” Justin said, holding his arms out for the cat. She didn’t let him go.

              Now the tears were falling freely. “No. Granny said that if anything happened to Charlie, I should take him to Dr. York.” She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.”

              “Really, Alley, I can help.”

              Reluctantly, she allowed him to take the cat.

              “Tell me what happened.”

              She quickly described what she knew about Charlie’s condition as she followed him downstairs to the clinic. “When is Dr. York coming back?”

              “Not for awhile. He’s at the festival.” Justin set Charlie on the steel table and began the examination.

              “I guess you’ve spent a lot of time working with Dr. York. Is he going to be alright? Shouldn’t we call him?”

              “You could say that. I hope so. And no.” He turned and took a syringe from one of the many containers lined up on the cabinet behind the examining table. “He’s blocked. I’m going to have to perform an emergency procedure.”

              “But, Dr. York –“

              ”Alley,” he said, taking her hands and looking into her eyes. “I’m a veterinarian. I’m Dr. York.”

              “What? But Granny said...”